Saturday, January 14, 2012

I fell through the ice. Once. In front of Bob Parker's camp (somebody else owns it now). It was December, I was 11 years old. There was an inch of clear ice and I just had to try it out. I walked out North from Scotty's Boat Livery and then West. I was about 20 yards offshore and broke through. I thought I was a goner but the depth was only up to mid-thigh and was so cold I could not catch my breath for several minutes. I slopped around and climbed out of there, wobbling home with frozen pants and squooshie boots- scared that it could have been worse (over my head, I'd be dead). I don't think anyone saw it happen. I never told a soul until just now...I was so frightened I just never wanted to think about it...

Friday, January 6, 2012

The nights were so cold in January. On windless starry nights, we'd walk out on the ice, the snow squeeking underfoot, looking for a comet or a satellite in the night sky and stopping to gulp as we became aware of the northern lights wavering and flourescing in the sky. It was glorious. Sometimes I thought I could hear them make a noise like little glass crystals tingling...but of course there is nothing to hear but the echo of the lake and the prattling of snowmobiles.